


Need You So (That I Could Die)

by flowersforgraves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dream Sex, Emotional Sex, Guilt, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Obi-Wan's dreaming, and for the first time he can feel Anakin's Force signature there with him.





	Need You So (That I Could Die)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/gifts).



> Thymesis, I really enjoyed your prompts! I hope it turned out satisfactorily. 
> 
> (thanks to Sia via discord for a second set of eyes on the fic)

This isn’t, unfortunately, the first time he’s had a sex dream. It’s not even the first time he’s had a sex dream about Anakin -- well, Vader, now. It is, however, the first time he’s felt Anakin’s presence in the Force within the dream. Obi-Wan rakes fingers through his hair, nervous. He can’t see An -- _Vader_ , and then all of a sudden that’s all he can see. 

There is a mouth on his, and his startled gasp allows Vader’s tongue into his mouth. Vader cups one hand behind Obi-Wan’s head, holding him in place as he explores Obi-Wan’s mouth. He pulls back, and on Anakin’s handsome face is a snarl, a grimace, those yellow Sith eyes that haunt Obi-Wan even during waking hours.

“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, breathless. “Why, Anakin?”

“You took Padmé from me,” Vader grates. “You seduced her away from me. You killed her, Kenobi. And for that you will pay.”

It’s probably -- definitely -- not a good idea to provoke any further anger, but Obi-Wan has never been known for his good ideas. “You did that yourself, Anakin! You --” 

His voice is cut off by Vader clenching a Force-fist around his throat. He reaches out blindly for the Force, but it slides from his grasp at the last possible moment.

“You will pay,” Vader repeats, and Obi-Wan feels gloved fingers seeking his cock over his robe. The hand around his throat dissolves, and he gulps air.

“Anakin,” he says, voice shaking, and Vader stops. “Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan says, and then he drops to his knees. “Let me.”

Vader looks surprised. “Just like that?” he asks, and stars but he sounds just like Anakin, and Obi-Wan’s heart aches.

“Yes,” he says, instead of _come back to me_ or _I still love you_ or _I’m sorry_ or any of the other things he wants to say. His hands are unsteady enough to need help with Vader’s belt, but once that’s out of the way he can pretend this is just like any other sex dream, on his knees giving head.

Gloved hands clench in his hair, longer now that he is not a leader of men. It feels achingly _correct_ in a way he hates; despite the fact that he never had any sexual encounter with Anakin, their bodies fit together the way their command styles had, the way their fighting had. 

He licks and sucks, giving himself over to his task completely rather than think further about regrets and might-have-beens. Arching up into Vader’s touch, he thinks _I shouldn’t_ , thinks _this is wrong_ , thinks _attachment is forbidden,_ thinks _I love him_ , thinks _I failed him._ He takes more of Vader into his mouth, as if he can make up for his failure -- as a teacher, as a mentor, as a friend, as a person -- with sex. _I’m sorry,_ he thinks, and Vader’s fingers tighten in his hair as if he knows what Obi-Wan is thinking.

“Stop moving,” Vader says, voice low. “You’ll move when I tell you to.”

Obi-Wan obeys without thinking, freezing in place halfway down Vader’s dick. The hands in his hair tug hard -- not up and off, but pulling him down. Obi-Wan wants to resist, but he doesn’t, _atonement_ , he thinks, and Vader moves him back and forth a bit before just pulling on his hair while he fucks into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

Vader’s tip hits the back of Obi-Wan’s throat, and he chokes, gasping for breath. Vader doesn’t let up, and Obi-Wan can’t stop the tears from spilling over onto his cheeks. 

It’s too long and not long enough before Vader comes -- without ceremony, without warning -- and Obi-Wan swallows. _Proof of my failure within me,_ he thinks. Vader grabs his beard, tips his face up so Obi-Wan looks him in the eye. “Stay here.”

So Obi-Wan remains on his knees, thigh muscles burning with strain, eyes closed, while Vader stalks off on an unknown errand. It occurs to him, finally, that he appears in the dream in Jedi robes, despite his daily wear being more suited to the Tatooine climate. That means Anakin -- _Vader_ \-- might not appear this way in person either.

He waits there, alone with his thoughts -- _is Anakin still alive? How did Sidious manage to recreate flesh so thoroughly?_ \-- for an interminable amount of time. Vader’s footsteps are the first thing he hears, and then the rasp of a breathing assist, and then Vader’s voice, tinny as if through a speaker.

“Get up,” Vader says. “Open your eyes and get up.”

Obi-Wan does, and gasps. Anakin is gone, and in his place stands a masked, black-robed figure. There are no Sith-yellow eyes, no gentle curls in his hair, no strong jawline. It’s just Vader, sleek black planes and curves, the black robes blowing in the sudden wind.

“This is what you did to me, Kenobi,” Vader says. “This is what you made me. You did this to me! I am what you made me, and if you are disgusted by what I am then you should have been better.”

Force, but it hurts to hear that from Vader. On good days Obi-Wan can dismiss similar thoughts as feverish mumblings of his own brain, but to hear it from Vader is an outside confirmation that he is at fault. “I’m sorry,” he says, knowing even as he speaks it is useless.

Vader is quiet, not dignifying that with a response. Instead he walks around Obi-Wan, predatory, like he’s sizing up Obi-Wan as a duelling partner, or a purchase at some sentient-trafficking market. Obi-Wan stays still, doesn’t move even his head, and when Vader finally circles back to face him, he says, “Go home, Kenobi. Go home, and I will find you. I will wait for you in dreams, where you cannot escape me. And when I do find you in the waking world, you will pay for this properly.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says, and it’s ridiculous, the whole situation is ridiculous, and yet he doesn’t have it in him to laugh.

-

Obi-Wan wakes up drenched in sweat, the taste of Vader’s come still lingering in his mouth, and resolutely ignores his dreams.


End file.
